Searching for Neverland
by Angelic-Hunter
Summary: Neverland is lost and it's up to a grown up Peter Pan and his new friend Samantha to find it again so he can go home.
1. Chapter 1

I wish I owned Peter Pan. But I don't. Pooh.

Written after a dream I had. Don't blame me if it's bad. My dreams are weird.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Samantha Kensington didn't believe in fairy tales. After her mother died and her father moved them from America to England to start a new life, fairy tales, which always brought the young girl happiness, didn't seem as magical as they were before. She still read classic tales of Arabian Nights and the Brothers Grimm, but they weren't as enchanting and exciting as before. As she grew older, the classic tales grew repetitive: princesses, princes, a curse, good triumphing over evil, it was all the same. Samantha decided that fairy tales and miracles were things created to make children naïve about the real world.

And while she always wanted to visit England and study at Oxford, she had always hoped her mother would be at her side. Her real mother, that is. Samantha was mortified when, after only three months of mourning, her father, Bill, remarried again. Along with the marriage came one snotty stepsister, a future half-brother, and a grand fortune that rivaled the Queens. It wasn't unusual, however. The Duchess Margaret, her new stepmother, was tenth in line to the throne and the queen's favorite cousin.

She wanted none of it.

She and Bill moved from their cozy two bedrooms flat in the slums to a grand manor in one of the richer areas of London. Their clothes and personal possessions in storage were dragged out and shipped to their new home. Samantha had mixed feelings about the marriage her father was getting into. On one side, she was moving into a large house where she could keep all her books in one place. One the downside, she was getting a new mother who would no doubt try to dominate her life.

They arrived on a spring morning, but the sky was anything but clear blue. Gray clouds hung over the London streets and highways, predicting a day of light showers. Bill, excited about the wedding only weeks away, knocked on the large mahogany doors and grinned at his young daughter. He thought she would enjoy living in a large mansion with plenty of privacy. Samantha stared back at him. She liked her privacy but even she thought having to dial extension just to ask a simple question was a little extreme.

A butler answered the door, but he was pushed aside by the duchess who was dressed in a flimsy peignoir with fur-trimmed edges with a matching negligee that fell to her ankles. Her platinum blond hair was brushed back and held in place with pearl combs and makeup was carefully applied to her face. As her hands reached around to hug Samantha, she noticed her nails were delicately polished and manicured.

"Hello!" she cried, hugging Samantha. "It's so wonderful to finally meet you. Your father speaks of nothing but how wonderful a daughter he has." Her nails bit into Samantha's arms. "But he never mentioned how beautiful you are."

Samantha tried not to laugh. She wasn't beautiful. She might have been the spitting image of her mother, but she could never compare to her regal beauty. Her jet-black hair was like her father's: wild and untamed. But her eyes were the same lavender, and her skin was, like always, fair bordering on pale. She could never compare to the goddess her mother was or the glowing beauties that lived in this house.

The Duchess moved from Samantha to Bill, where they passionately embraced. But before Samantha had time to study the enormous entry hall she stood in, she was enveloped in another hug, this time by a much smaller person. It took her a moment to realize that the miniature twin of her new stepmother was her new stepsister, Elizabeth. She was like a china doll, her new sister. Her honey blond hair was perfectly curled and held back with a pastel pink ribbon, and her flawless face, accentuated with just a dash of makeup, was as bright at the sun. She was ten, two years younger than Samantha, but already had the makings of a beautiful woman.

"Welcome to our new home, big sister!" she cried cheerfully. "I'm Elizabeth, you're new sister."

Samantha glared down at her new sister. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father giving her a look that plainly told her to be nice. Sighing, she put on a false smile. "I'm Samantha. You can call me Sam."

Elizabeth giggled. "Sam? That's a boys name!" Samantha felt the sudden urge to bash the ninny's head in. "From now on, I shall only call you Samantha. And you must always call me Elizabeth."

"Lizzie?"

She giggled again. "No, you silly. Elizabeth!"

Samantha ground her teeth together. It was going to be a pain living with this new sister, who was constantly cheerful. There was nothing to be cheerful about. Her mother was three months in the grave, and her father was going to remarry a woman who wasn't half the woman her mother was. He had already forgotten her.

"Come!" Elizabeth cried. "I want to show you our new room."

Samantha didn't want to follow her new sister. She didn't want to go anywhere, except to the Thames River to drown. But Elizabeth had already grabbed her arm and was dragging her up the grand mahogany staircase. All the while she talked about how much fun they would have now that they were sisters. They passed a corridor filled with portraits of the royal members who had lived in the house. Samantha wanted to stop to admire them, but Elizabeth was adamant about showing off her room.

"You're going to love our room. It's painted pink- isn't that a lovely color? –and white. I have a big bed with roses on it and a white peppermint canopy. You have one too, but it's not as grand as mine. I share my bed with my miniature poodle, Ginger. She's..." On and on she went, until Samantha was sure her ears would start bleeding.

One flight and three long corridors later and they were in front of a white door with "Elizabeth" painted in pink on the door. Samantha despised pink. It was the color of happiness, something she hadn't known for a very long time. She shied away from the color, and relished the comfort of dark colors. She stepped aside as Elizabeth opened the door to her room.

Samantha was taken aback. The room, lit by a stray stream of sunlight peaking in from the clouds, was bright and cheerful. The light reflected off the white in the room, and made her assume that one step in and she would be blinded. And the overabundance of pink made it even harder to enter. But what she did see when she staggered into the bright room was the described canopy bed and a smaller and not as grand light blue bed.

"Is that a bed for guests?" she asked Elizabeth.

She giggled. "No, Samantha. That's your bed! Mother insisted we share a room."

Samantha fumed and stormed out of the room, nearly knocking over the footman carrying her bags. "Don't bother unpacking the bags in that room. I won't be staying."

The middle-aged footman stared at her. "But Miss-"She cut him off.  
"You may leave them here and tell the Duchess that I am searching for a new room for I will not be staying with Elizabeth."

The footman put the bags down and bowed. "Yes, Miss Samantha."

Samantha groaned. "Please. I hate formal titles when given to someone who doesn't deserve it." It took the footman a moment to understand that she was talking about herself. "And don't bow, either. It makes me nervous. Just call me Sam, okay?"

"But you are the Duchess' new daughter," he protested. "I must-"

"You don't have to do anything because the Duchess hasn't adopted me. And I am no one until she does. So until that day comes, I am Sam. Just plain ole Sam."

The footman caught himself in mid bow and smiled. "If I may make a suggestion?"

"Of course. I believe in free speech as much as the next person."

"Some of the rooms you might want to look at are locked. If you want, I could accompany you on your quest, and perhaps find you a proper room."

Sam's eyes sparkled for a moment. "That would be wonderful. Perhaps you know of some rooms with an adjoining sitting room?"

"There are a few like that overlooking the gardens."

"Great! You can show me the rooms and you-"she pointed at Elizabeth- "can tell the Duchess that I am not staying."

Elizabeth fumed. "_I _am not a servant for you to boss around!"

"Welcome to sisterhood." Sam closed the door on her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well, how was it?


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry it took so long.

-

Sam and the footman whose name was John trekked around the manor, surveying every room that he knew had a sitting room attached. They started on the first floor, opening rooms long neglected and waited for someone to open the windows and live in there again. Some of the furniture had been eaten away from rot and bugs; others were intact but needed to be repaired. Some rooms had no furniture at all except for lone footstools. Others looked like the residents had just recently left. There were still embers glowing in one of the fireplaces.

"Sometimes the Duchess lets out a room or two for club meetings," John explained. "Mainly Girl Scout meetings or book clubs. Whichever she prefers at the time."

The second floor produced no results, nor did the third floor. Sam had to find a room on the fourth floor, or settle for one of the other rooms, because all the servants lived on the fifth. She didn't mind the fourth floor, however. Unlike the first two she explored, the fourth gave an expansive view of the neatly trimmed gardens and crystal clear water fountains.

John unlocked three rooms on that floor before Sam found the one she wanted. It was large and fully stocked with furniture, all in a good, but dusty, condition. There was a large canopy bed, its sheets and canopy gone, with an ornate bedside table. The rose colored rug placed by the side of the bed was covered with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs, as was most of the room. A plush chair missing much of its stuffing sat next to the fireplace that was home to dozens of spiders and a large mahogany bureau was placed next to the door leading to the sitting room.

_A lot could be done with this room_, Sam thought, gazing at the cream colored walls. She walked to the glass double doors leading to the balcony to let some fresh air in, and gazed at the gardens stretched out in front of her. She lightly brushed the banister of the marble balcony, and then turned to John. "Please inform the staff that I am taking up residence in this part of the manor." She cocked her head and eyed the fading wallpaper. "I am thinking of redecorating and would like some assistance."

"The staff can help clean the room up before you paint it," John said.

"That would be wonderful," she replied. "Do you know who lived in this room before?"

He stroked his chin, deep in thought. "If memory serves, this room was used by the late Duchess Audrina."

"Duchess Audrina? Was she Margaret's mother?"

"Lady Audrina was Lady Margaret's elder sister. Alas, she committed suicide when she was fourteen."

Sam looked at him, horrified. "Why?"

"Lady Audrina went insane when she was twelve. She kept ranting about a boy who could fly and how he was going to take her away to a faraway place. It gradually became worse and worse, until one day she started screaming out 'Wait for me'. I was a young man when this happened and tried to help her down from the edge of the roof when she climbed up. But she kept screaming 'Look, I can fly too". Before I could grab her, she jumped off the ledge, and died. The last thing she said before she jumped was, and I will always remember this, was 'I love you'."

"Who was she talking about?"

John shrugged. "Nobody knows. She never mentioned a name, never said where we could find him. Absolutely nothing. She would go on nighttime walks through the halls, fighting imaginary things. If anyone tried to wake her, she would scream out 'Pirate' and attack until she woke up or you backed off."

"Why didn't anyone try to help her?"

"We tried to convince her mother, but she always believed Lady Audrina wasn't insane. Not until it was too late."

Sam sank to the dusty floor. The family might not understand what had happened to her, but Sam knew. The boy who could fly, the faraway place, the pirates, it was simple. But Peter Pan wasn't real. He was just a boy from a story. She sighed. "She was talking about Peter Pan from J. M. Barrie's novel. She must have believed in him so much it drove her insane."

John bowed his head. "Lady Audrina was a beautiful young woman. It's unfortunate that she was taken away from us so soon. But I thought you might like this room because of this." He unlocked the door to the adjoining sitting room and signaled to Sam to follow him. She cocked an eyebrow and followed him in. "I assumed from the numerous boxes of books that you were an avid reader." He opened the door and revealed a library big enough to stock twice as many books as she already had. There were still some leather bound editions left on the shelves from when Audrina still lived.

It was dusty, like everything else. An abandoned midnight blue chaise-lounge sat in the center, it's golden tassels covered in spider webs and dust. An old leather bound book lay open on the chaise, its pages yellowed at the edges. The walls were pale blue with dark blue trim around the large windows.

Sam's eyes lit up. A library all her own, big enough to hold all her books and the ones she would accumulate over her life. A quiet place she could be, without any disturbances from the outside world.

"Lady Audrina loved this room," John said. "She would spend hours in this room, hiding from the Grand Duchess and the rest of the family."

And that's what Sam would do. She didn't want any part in this adventure called life, especially with her new stepfamily. She wandered around the room, admiring the bookshelves and dozens of books, trailing her hand over the fading blue walls and the dusty door handles. Her hands traveled over a large keyhole. "Where is the key?"

John pulled out a ring of keys. On the end was a large brass key. "It's old, but it should still work." He pulled it off the ring and handed it to Sam. She slipped it into the lock and turned. It still worked. "It works for the other doors as well. Lady Audrina made her haven as safe as possible."

"Thank you John," Sam said. "I'm glad you showed these rooms to me."

"If it pleases you, I could accompany you on a trip to help spruce up the rooms."

"That would be much appreciated. Thank you. But will the Duchess allow us?"

As if summoned by magic, Margaret flung open the double doors. "I forbid you to use these rooms!"

Sam half-heartedly shrugged. "No one was using them. And I need a room to myself."

"For what?" she shrieked, losing that goddess-like demeanor. She stormed into the room and stood in front of Sam, staring into her cold, lavender eyes.

"Books. Elizabeth's room wasn't big enough."

"Books? What does a girl need books for?" She tossed the book on the chez-lounge into the corner. It hit the wall and dropped with a loud thud. "My sister loved books, and look where it got her. She died! Committed suicide because of some silly thing she read about in books!"

"I know about Audrina," Sam replied. "I know what happened to her. It's not out of spite that I take this room. I respect the memory of your beloved sister and that this room is sacred to you. But she would have not wanted this room to become a mausoleum! It's too beautiful to be left to rot."

"I don't care what you say," Margaret spat. "You've no right to tell me what my sister would have wanted."

There was a loud knock on the door. Sam and Margaret turned to find Bill standing in the doorway. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Margaret flung herself at Bill and cowered in his arms. "Oh William, it's awful! Your daughter won't listen to me! She hates me!"

Bill glared at his young daughter. "What is she doing?"

"This was my sister's room, and I don't want her to use it! I'm trying to keep memory alive with this room!" She buried her head in his chest.

He stroked her blond hair. "Now, now, Darling. It's all right. It's silly to try to remember someone just by his or her room. Let Sam have it. You can always remember your sister in some other way. Besides, this room was meant to be lived it."

"But-"

"This is a silly quarrel, Let Sam have the room and end this discussion."

Margaret pouted and it wasn't false. "Fine." She shot an angry glance at Sam. "Now I want to show you _our_ room." She led him away, giggling.

Sam sighed and sunk onto the chez-lounge. "How do you put up with her?"

John smiled. "She helps put the kids through college."

Sam smiled back at him. "You do know that I'll never get the money to refurnish the rooms."

"Who said anything about money? The Duchess has a tab in almost every store in the city."

She smirked. "Won't that upset her?"

"The Duchess is trying everything to keep this marriage working. If she is trying to keep Lord Bill happy, and Lord Bill wants to make you happy, then it all figures out in the end."

"Could you kindly tell the maids and menservants to prepare the room for painting? And if they wouldn't mind helping."

He bowed. "Of course Miss Samantha."

"John?"

He smiled dryly and straightened himself. "Of course, Sam."

She stood. "Thank you. Meet me outside. I'll be waiting."

"Of course." He strode out the door to inform the maids and menservants of their plans. Sam adjusted her coat and looked around the room one last time. She noticed the book Margaret had thrown into the corner, and picked it up. She dusted off the spine and read the title. "You're so dusty," she whispered. "She must have been reading you before she died." She put the book back on the shelf. There was a knock on the door, and a maid stepped in with buckets of soap and water, followed by several more maids and menservants,

"You called ma'am?' the maid asked.

Sam was unnerved for a moment. She wasn't used to people bowing wherever she went. "That was…quick."

"John is a quick person, for his age." She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Do you wish for us to get started?"

"Uh…yeah, if you don't mind."

"Then if you'll excuse us. John is waiting for you at the car."

Sam smiled and ran off, leaving the maids and menservants to fix up her room. She raced down the corridors and down the stairs, flinging the wide oak doors open.

"Where are you going?" Elizabeth called, before the door slammed in her face.

-


End file.
